


Wait, What?

by SoftBubbles



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But Eleanor's isn't any better, Child Abuse, Confessions, Everyone Is Very Concerned, Friendship, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Johnny boy deserved BETTER, Love, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Picnics, Platonic Relationships, and he doesn't even know it was WRONG, my poor baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftBubbles/pseuds/SoftBubbles
Summary: What was supposed to be a fun picnic with the Hamilsquad quickly turned into something much more depressing when they began sharing childhood stories and John, unknowingly, shares something horrifying to the rest of the group.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 59
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

The Schuyler sisters had begun arranging the small event when they woke up and saw the beautiful weather outside. Discussing it quickly between themselves, Angelica texted the group chat while Eliza hurried into the kitchen, with Peggy just a few steps behind while she opened up her Pinterest food board (entitled 'future inhabitants of my stomach') on her phone.

Elsewhere in New York, more specifically at Columbia University's Broadway Hall residence, twelve phones suddenly lit up with incoming texts - seven of which came from a chat currently known as 'Laf's Ladies'.

 **Better Work Bitch (9:21 a.m.)** oi

 **Better Work Bitch (9:21 a.m.)** what're you guys doing today

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:23 a.m.)** kicking jefferson's ass at latin on duolingo that's what

 **Better Work Bitch (9:23 a.m.)** Wrong.

 **Monticell-ho (9:24 a.m.)** _Quod iustum est, quia ego vado ad stimulum calcitrare asinam team!_

 **Better Work Bitch (9:24 a.m.)** Wrong.

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:25 a.m.)** yeah because you clearly just got that from google translate

 **Mads Hatter (9:25 a.m.)** or, because I, the underdog, will win?

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:25 a.m.)** aren't you fluent 

**Better Work Bitch (9:26 a.m.)** Wrong.

 **Cowabunga (9:26 a.m.)** wrong he isn't fluent or wrong he won't win

 **Monticell-ho (9:26 a.m.)** wrong that I got that from google translate

 **Chidi Anagonye (9:27 a.m.)** she may not mean any of them

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:27 a.m.)** burr! 

**wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:27 a.m.)** when did you get back

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:27 a.m.)** how's Theo

Suddenly a loud thump and a scream could be heard throughout the hall. 

_wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham removed a message_

**Cowabunga (9:28 a.m.)** yeah that's not weird at all

 **H E R C U L E S (9:28 a.m.)** should I be concerned as your ra or laugh at your expense as your friend

 **Big Baguette Energy (9:28 a.m.)** herc don't be rUDE

 **Big Baguette Energy** **(9:28 a.m.)** alexander is our friend

 **Big Baguette Energy** **(9:28 a.m.)** and friendship ALWAYS comes first

 **H E R C U L E S (9:29 a.m.)** I'm sorry

A very loud, very exaggerated laugh rang out.

 **Better Work Bitch (9:29 a.m.)** Wrong.

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:29 a.m.)** he's not sorry?

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:29 a.m.)** dude what the fuck

 **Better Work Bitch (9:30 a.m.)** John

 **Cowabunga (9:30 a.m.)** yes ma'am

 **Better Work Bitch (9:30 a.m.)** what are you doing today

 **Cowabunga (9:30 a.m.)** whatever you tell me to

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:31 a.m.)** jOhn no

 **Chidi Anagonye (9:31 a.m.)** even I could've lasted longer than that

 **Cowabunga (9:31 a.m.)** sorry but I'm a good southern boy

 **Cowabunga (9:32 a.m.)** I do what I'm told 

**Cowabunga (9:32 a.m.)** especially when there's food involved

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:32 a.m.)** food?

 **Big Baguette Energy (9:32 a.m.)** food?

 **H E R C U L E S (9:32 a.m.)** food?

 **Mads Hatter (9:32 a.m.)** food?

 **Monticell-ho (9:32 a.m.)** free food?

 **Cowabunga (9:33 a.m.)** yeah peggy and liza's pinterests have been going crazy

 **Better Work Bitch (9:35 a.m.)** I assume you're all in then?

 **Big Baguette Energy (9:35 a.m.)** depends

 **Chidi Anagonye (9:35 a.m.)** what is it

 **Mads Hatter (9:36 a.m.)** when is it

 **wHam, bHam, thank you m'Ham (9:36 a.m.)** and can it be sooner

 **Better Work Bitch (9:36 a.m.)** Picnic at Central Park at 11

 **Better Work Bitch (9:36 a.m.)** Bring your own blankets and whatever else

A few more separate texts were made to arrange who's sitting with who and whatever else is being brought along before everyone moved towards either their dresser or the showers to get ready.

About an hour later, everyone was getting ready to go. The Schuyler sisters, who lived only two minutes away from the park, carried two picnic baskets along with them as they walked. John and Alexander also decided to walk, bringing only their blanket, some bubbles, a speaker and a disturbing amount of candy stuffed in John's backpack. The rest of the group had their blankets, a cooler and a pie Hercules had insisted on picking up along the way with them in his car.

As soon as everyone had arrived and a good shady spot had been discovered, they began to set their things up before they fell into their usual habits:

Alexander and Thomas immediately began a fight about what sort of music they should play over the speaker, getting so caught up in it that they didn't even notice Peggy walk behind them and start playing from own playlist. They didn't even notice when she started a dance-off with Lafayette.

Hercules, Angelica and John decided to try to see who could blow the biggest bubble, but unfortunately, it didn't take long for John and Angelica to get way too into the competitive aspect of it, so instead it just became John and Angelica aggressively blowing air as they trash-talked each other while Hercules tried to keep himself from laughing his ass off on the side.

Back where they had set up the blankets, Eliza chatted cheerily with Burr and Madison as Burr helped her set up the food and Madison rested against the tree, having just recovered from his twenty-eighth cold of the year.

After about ten or so minutes of this comfortable routine, they rounded up the others, Eliza going over to the Bubble Bros and calming John and Angelica down while Aaron took on the near-impossible task of breaking up Alex and Thomas and getting Peggy and Laf to end the dance-off.

Despite a few protests, eventually, all the battles came to a temporary end and everyone made their way into the shade.

Underneath a large oak tree, Thomas had moved to lay down on the fuchsia blanket near James, propping his head up on top of his hand so he could easily eat and talk to his fellow Virginian while his legs stretched out long enough that he could kick Hamilton when needed.

Alexander was sitting with John on the second blanket, this one decorated with either an adorable or an atrocious (depending on who you ask) pattern of turtles, as they secretly hid the container of mac & cheese behind them and tried to eat as much as they could before Thomas noticed. 

On the third, largest and most fashionable blanket, Hercules, Aaron and Eliza ate their sandwiches while they quietly exchanged roasts and bits of gossip about their friends.

Finally, Angelica, Peggy and Lafayette sat at the picnic table that they had moved near the blankets, giving them a height advantage that they didn't wait long to abuse. Rolling up small chunks of food into little balls, they began throwing them at their friends to try to get the most points - three for hitting them in the torso, five for on the head and ten for getting it in their mouths.

By the end, Lafayette had thirteen points, Angelica had fifteen and Peggy sixteen.

They also had seven angry friends.

"Y'all are lucky that Jemmy's here, 'cause you don't want to know what I'd do if he weren't!" Thomas exclaimed angrily as James carefully pulled large cookie crumbs from his hair, occasionally putting his hand on Thomas's shoulder to keep him from jumping up and attacking the trio.

"Oh please, like you could win in a fight against anyone, let alone those shits," Alex commented, jerking a thumb behind him at the three at the picnic table before moving his hand to punch Jefferson in the calf after he kicked Alexander in the back.

"I swear, sometimes it's like we're the only ones here that were raised with manners." Hercules tried to quietly say to Aaron and Eliza, but the slight buzz he'd been working up made his words louder than intended.

"Right, because picking fights in the goddamn yarn aisle at Michael's is _clearly_ the sign of a proper upbringing." 

"Oh, I remember that, John. Tell me, was that before or after you challenged a guy to a duel over a set of pencils?"

"Pencils? Really, John? You're willing to fight a guy over a set of pencils but you wouldn't go after the guy that bought the last of the instant coffee for _me_?" John gave a slight shrug and a smile in response to Alexander's overly-dramatic reaction.

"You think those were uncalled for? Did we ever tell you guys about the time Peggy chewed a guy out for taking all of the gingerbread cookies at our parents' Christmas party a few years ago?" Angelica recalled, earning a groan from the aforementioned sister.

"Ugh, don't remind me of that Ange! I'm still traumatized from when they took all of my Christmas chocolate and gave it to you guys! It was the worst Christmas in the history of Christmas's" 

"Oh, Pegs. Don't think of it as your worst Christmas ever, think of it as Angelica's and my best Christmas ever." Eliza offered sweetly, leaning over to get a high-five from Angelica. 

"At times like this, I wish I was adopted."

"You _are_ adopted."

"Shut up, you can't prove that."

"But - you know what? Whatever." Angelica shook her head lightly and smiled at her sister's usual weirdness.

"Ah, if we are sharing embarrassing fuck-ups _de nos enfances_ , did you know that Thomas's parents tried to get him on My Strange Addiction after he ate three, large pots of, oh what is it called? Mac-roni and cheese?" 

"Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette! That was _private_ information that I shared with you in _confidence_!"

"Mary-Joseph Paul Eve Rosh Gilbert dew Monty, Marky de Lafayette! How dare you not share that information sooner!" Peggy, who had never paid attention in a single french class ever, scolded.

"Oh, come now, Thomas! We are having fun! Look, I will share a story of mine! When I was young, _ma_ _mère_ would throw these large, lavish parties every year for _le 14 juillet_ , inviting important people from all around France; senators, ambassadors, millionaires, billionaires - essentially everyone _maman_ thought was worth knowing.

" _Quand_ _j'avias_ _dix ans_ , _maman_ wanted me to be more responsible so she put me in charge of the fireworks. Unfortunately, back then, _j'avias une peu flemme_ -"

"Right - _a little_ lazy."

" _Back then_." John and then Hercules cut in, making the rest of the group snicker at their friend, who, to his credit, would be quite hard-working when it's something he actually wants to do, but would also sooner shave off all of his hair before he willingly did the dishes or _heaven forbid_ picked up a broom and dustpan.

" _ **J'avias une peu flemme**_ , so I was not paying as much attention as I maybe, _possibly_ , should have, and I had a little, how you say, mishap? But in my defence, Adrienne, _une très belle fille_ who was in my grade had been invited and had chosen to come to sit by me as I set the fireworks, so who can blame me for setting the fireworks off a direction that was _un peu_ closer to the crowd than the sky?"

With his eyes as wide as the others, Burr spoke what they were all thinking, "Lafayette, you didn't," he moved his hands around weirdly and made a face to make his implication, "did you?"

"What? _Non! Non! Non, non, non!_ That's not how they died!" 

"What? So they do die!?" Thomas sent him a more-than-horrified look.

"Of course! We all died! They just didn't died then!" 

" _Die_ , Laf. _Died_ is past tense, _die_ is future." Eliza explained with a faint hint of exasperation.

"It is the same thing," Lafayette dismissed, slightly embarrassed, "but anyway, the fireworks just flew maybe a meter above their heads? Still, _ma_ _mère_ was _t_ _rès furieuse._ "

"Really? Why?" Angelica said, too distracted by Lafayette and his story to notice John snake his hand up and steal the package of cookies in her purse for him and Hamilton.

"You must have been in a fuck ton of trouble." 

" _Mais oui,_ " he frowned slightly, remembering what followed, "for the rest of the summer, I had to do everything by myself - no maids, no butlers, _les chefs_ were only to prepare my dinners, it was _très horrible_!"

Now, all of his friends were in disbelief, but for two different reasons. John, Hercules, Aaron and Alexander were in disbelief because they had to do everything themselves growing up, so they didn't understand how being normal was _très horrible_. Thomas, James and the Schuyler sisters, on the other hand, were shocked.

"At only ten!? Wha- How did y-?" Thomas couldn't wrap his head around it - how did he not die?

"I'm all for learning how to be independent, but ten is way too young to be doing things on your own!"

"What did you have to do?" Eliza questioned, trying and failing to mask her astonishment.

"I made my own bed, washed my own clothes, cleaned my room, and made my own breakfast and lunch." Whether it was Lafayette's tone as he spoke or the faces of the others that broke them, John, Hercules, Aaron and Alexander couldn't hold back their laughter anymore.

"I'm sorry," Hamilton spoke between laughs, "but Laf, you literally dead-ass almost fucking killed and/or severely injured a crowd of people - "

" _Important_ people," John interjected.

"- _important_ people, and that was your punishment? You lucky bastard!" 

"Lucky!? Did you not hear what he said?"

"Did you?" Burr responded, "His punishment was just making him do normal things for a month."

"I'm sorry, did Burr just form an opinion? Ooh, also, can you pass the potato salad?" 

"No, I shared a fact - big difference, don't worry." He chided as he leaned over in an attempt to pass the turquoise Tupperware container over to Peggy's outstretched hand, but it was quickly intercepted by Alexander.

"Not so fast, Mr. Burr, sir. Don't you think it's time for the more-privileged amongst us to finally get the education they need?" He attempted to joke before Angelica hit him on the head and passed the container to Peggy.

"Shut up, Alexander. We know how to do things by ourselves, we just didn't learn them as young as ten."

"You think ten is a young age? I began fixing my own breakfast and lunch at like six, my own laundry my eight, washing the dishes by nine and I always cleaned my own room." Hercules recounted, before adding, "And if I set fireworks off into," Lafayette gave him a look, " _over_ a crowd, my parents would've been the ones to call the police to teach me a lesson. Speaking of which, didn't anyone call the police?"

" _Heureusement_ , everyone was either at the level of drunk where they forgot to care or they did care, but they didn't want to bring down the mood of the party."

"As I said before, you are a lucky bastard."

"But of course, only the absolute luckiest get to look this good!" Lafayette announced, rising from his seat to flip his hair and give the group a good look at him as he spins around. As he sat back down, Eliza addressed the four.

"Anyways, if you guys think his punishment was so mediocre, what was your worst punishment growing up?"

"I was a perfect child, so I never had to be punished." Burr attempted to boast before Hamilton let out a laugh.

"Yeah, because 'perfect' children grow up to have an affair with a - " He trailed off before he could finish the sentence though, faltering under Aaron's surprisingly terrifying glare, reminding him it's probably best to change the subject quickly before anyone starts asking questions. "Uh, anyways, John, you're always getting into fights."

"Not always!"

"You realize you're saying that with a split lip, right?" Hercules responds, making Alexander briefly remember how hot he finds it.

"Okay, recently, I got into one - "

"Two."

"I thought it was three?"

" - _altercation_ , but you all know I had very good reasons to do so."

"Good reasons that you wouldn't have had if you didn't hang out in seedy bars all the time." Angelica, who has always been vocally against fighting, points out.

"But I don't do that all the time! And besides, if I didn't call them out on it, they'd just go through life not knowing how awful they are and would probably just go on to hurt more people!"

"And presumably this is a sentiment that got you fucked up when you were younger as well?"

"Not really, the other kids came from too much money to be able to do anything more than talk - _no offence_ \- and my parents rarely ever tried anything that bad - I mean, I always _hated_ it whenever they'd lock me in the closet, it was always just so quiet and lonely in there, you know? But hey, no parents like it when you talk back to them, so I guess I had it coming."

He had said it so conversationally that at first, just for a few seconds, none of them even realized what he had said. But suddenly, a phrase of six words replayed in Hercules's head and shit started to click.

"Wait, did you just fucking say that they'd lock you in a closet?"

The other members of their group began to let out words of confusion as they went over what he said, but poor, damaged John didn't even realize what the big fuss was about.

"Yeah, so?"

" _So_ _?_ " Thomas let out, at an absolute loss for words of his own to be let out.

"So, that's just how they'd punish me. Didn't any of your parents do the same?" They all vigorously shook their heads.

"Fuck no, John. Sure, they'd send us to our rooms but - "

"What's the difference between sending me to my room and into the closet?" John had cut Peggy off with what he had thought was solid logic. 

"We were free to leave our rooms if we wanted to use the bathroom or - or get food, or apologize for whatever we did!" Jemmy exclaimed, raising his voice much higher than usual.

"I could do those afterwards."

"John, how long was it until afterwards?" Burr questioned, his tone careful as if for once he actually had to try to keep it level.

"I dunno. Depended on what I did."

"Average it out."

"I don't have a calcu- well, I mean, talking back, for instance, about three?"

"Minutes?" Eliza's tone was hopeful.

"Hours." He looked at her as if she was crazy.

" _Hours_." Angelica tested the word, thinking that maybe if she said it herself some alternative meaning to the word would spring to mind. A better meaning. She didn't find one.

"Was it ever longer?" Lafayette posed one of the many questions they weren't sure they wanted the answer to.

"Yeah, sometimes for punishments, but most of the time it was because my parents were either having a party, my mom was having some sort of ladies luncheon thing or my dad was having a meeting and they didn't want me around. The individual things though typically only ever rang up to around two or three hours."

"What about the parties?"

"Depended on the event. Typically between five to eight hours."

" _Eight hours_?" Hercules said, eyes wide. "Did they at least give you food? Or - or, or anything?"

"No?" John was starting to catch onto the fact that his friends are giving off a slightly different vibe than before, but for the absolute life of him, he couldn't think of why.

"So you just sat there, for _hours_ , all by yourself - wait, did they put your siblings in there with you?" Thomas went, suddenly remembering the four younger Laurens' children.

"No, no, god no. They'd usually let them come out with them for at least the beginning of the party until sending them up to bed."

"Then why did they only put you in the closet?"

"Tons of reasons. Mainly because their guests only knew me through their children, who hadn't exactly given me glowing reviews."

"Why else?"

"Come on, Angelica. You've been to these sort of parties billions of times, it should be obvious."

"Is it?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I'm rude, dull, disrespectful and far from intelligent - and that all could be okay if I was attractive, but, you know, let's be honest here," he gestures a hand towards his face before lowering it in direction of his body. "I'm basically the worst possible person for them to have around." He then saw the looks on their faces, "Come on, guys. I know you're my friends and all, but you can't say you haven't noticed these things."

"Someone please translate that back to me in French, because there is absolutely no fucking way I interpreted that correctly."

While Thomas quickly replied to Lafayette after realizing he was serious, Hamilton, who had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time, asked John a question:

"Were your parents the ones that told you that?"

"Obviously. They wouldn't lock me in the closet without at least giving me a good reason. They're not cruel."

"Do you honestly think that?"

"Don't you?"

"Fuck no, John." Peggy chimed in, her gaze mixed with anger and confusion. "No offence, but your parents sound horrible."

"They were just trying to protect me!"

"Oh please, if they wanted to protect you they would've called child services and have them take you to a nice, stable and non-abusive family." 

"Abusive?"

At John's genuinely confused tone, James' own tone began to match, "Yeah, John. Abusive. You do know that that wasn't right?"

"I don't think you guys are interpreting this correctly. Everything they did for me was out of love."

"Locking you in a closet?"

"Protecting me from being embarrassed and ridiculed."

"Not feeding you for hours on end?"

"They didn't think I needed any extra weight."

"Extra weight? Dude, you're fucking ripped."

"Thanks to them."

"John," Alex said, warily, "what else did they, uh, do to - I mean - _for_ you?"

"What're you trying to get at?"

The rest of the group shared a brief look before Lafayette gave in and asked, "Did they ever hit you?"

"When I deserved it, yeah, why wouldn't they have?"

It was quiet. It stayed quiet for at least two or three minutes because how the fuck do you react to that? How do you react to learning not only was your friend abused, but that they don't even know that they were?

The silence was broken by Alexander moving to take his phone out his pocket and a minute later by his voice.

"Fun Fact: If we leave now, we can catch a flight to Charleston at JFK and be there in about three hours."

Before John could ask why he wanted to go to Charleston, the rest of his friends began to pack up their things. 

"What - what're you guys doing? We haven't even finished the food! I'm sorry!"

"What are you sorry for?" James asked him, turning around to give him a weird look.

"Well, I don't know, but it was clearly something I said - so, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for making it weird, you guys don't have to go."

"Technically, yeah, it was something you said." Eliza confirmed, "But it's not your fault; it's your parents's."

"They did the best they could with me!"

"Right, because abuse and blatant disregard for your child's well-being is the number one parenting tip given out on all of the mommy blogs nowadays." Jefferson sassed.

"It's - they weren't - you guys are just...! You aren't interpreting this correctly!"

"How the fuck are we supposed to interpret this shit then!?"

"I don't know! Just not how you currently are, because that's wrong! It's wrong! My parents are - "

"Horrible?"

"Criminals?"

"Sadistic?"

"Disgusting trash bags?"

"Sociopaths?"

"No, sociopaths are impulsive and in the moment. Psychopaths, on the other hand, are more manipulative and think things through, making it easier to - unfortunately - pull shit like this off."

"Wow, Eliza swearing? I think that's a pretty major fucking sign that this isn't good, John. John?" Hercules' voice tipped into confusion as he looked over to his friend to see that he was getting up to leave.

" _Mon ami_ , what're you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Laf? I'm leaving. I don't want to sit here and listen to you guys talk shit about my parents anymore."

"John, you're right, we should've been nicer about it," Madison agreed, "but you have to know that we aren't wrong - your parents _are_ abusive."

"And when he says you have to know, he means _you have to know_ because it's absolutely heartbreaking to know that your parents did this to you, but it's soul-crushing to see that you don't even realize that it's wrong." Peggy rose from her seat on the bench to show John her full attention, her voice with a level of seriousness that only her sisters had ever seen her carry before.

For a second, it looked like he was going to say something in response but instead, he just quickly stumbled out a good-bye and walked off, his friends letting him go as they knew that this is definitely something that warrants alone-time when requested despite how much they all wanted to run him down and hug the ever-loving shit out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Latin:**
> 
> Quod iustum est, quia ego vado ad stimulum calcitrare asinam tuam - Many meanings to this one, I typed in 'That's right, because I am going to kick your ass!' but when I translated it back to make sure it was right, it would change every time. My favourite variation is 'That what is right, because I am going back to the pricks to kick; your donkey three times?'
> 
> **French:**
> 
> de nos enfances - of our childhoods
> 
> le 14 juillet - Known as Bastille Day in English, it is a French national holiday celebrated on July 14th, commonly celebrated with military parades, fireworks, and fancy parties
> 
> ma mère/maman - my mother/mom
> 
> Quand j'avias dix ans - When I was ten (the direct translation actually means 'I had ten years', which is just how the french say it for some reason (Same as how in the present tense it'd be 'j'ai dix ans' meaning 'I have ten years'))
> 
> J'avias une peu flemme - I was a little lazy
> 
> une très belle fille - a very pretty girl
> 
> un peu - a little
> 
> Non! Non! Non, non, non! - No! No! No, no, no!
> 
> one meter - Not in French, but it is their measurement, so for those who measure with the imperial system, one meter is just over three feet.
> 
> très furieuse - very furious (also can be spelt 'très furieux' when in the masculine form)
> 
> Mais oui - but yes
> 
> très horrible - very horrible
> 
> Heureusement - Fortunately
> 
> Mon ami - My friend
> 
> **Usernames:**
> 
> Better Work Bitch - Angelica - Schuyler Sisters/Work Bitch (Britney Spears)
> 
> wHam, Ham, thank you m'Ham - Alexander - Ham
> 
> Monticell-ho - Thomas - His house + the fact that he's a bit of a ho
> 
> Mads Hatter - Madison - 'Madison, you're as mad as a hatter, so take your medicine!'
> 
> Cowabunga - John - Cowabunga is the main catchphrase of the TMNT, and we all damn well know that he would love this show
> 
> Chidi Anagonye - Burr - Because he can't a decision to save his lifE
> 
> Big Baguette Energy - Lafayette - Because he always gives off the warm, comforting feeling you get from being inside a bakery - no other reason. 
> 
> H E R C U L E S - Hercules - H E R C U L E S


	2. Chapter 2

Typically, when walking through forms of nature such as the park he is currently in, John took the time to admire what's around him and mentally file away anything he finds particularly exceptional for the next time he sits down to draw. Now, however, everything just seemed to blur together into a mess of green surrounding him as he sped through the park.

In John's mind, this scenario should've ended with his friends apologizing for insulting his parents, him apologizing for bringing it up in the first place, and then they all went back to having a lovely day and forgot about the whole damn thing.

But, no. That didn't happen. It couldn't have had happened because when John fucked up, he fucked up so bad that it was impossible for anything good to ever come of it. 

That's what they didn't get. _How_ they didn't get it was beyond him. John had befriended the group at the start of his freshman year, meaning that they, some of the smartest people in the entire school, had known him for a full year and a half and managed to be completely oblivious to his stupidity. 

His parents, thankfully, were very aware. They immediately recognized the problem and worked hard to help him get better and prevent it from affecting others. His friends should be thanking - not _insulting_ \- them for making John at least moderately tolerable.

They dedicated eighteen years of their lives to trying to fix him, and this is the thanks they get. Sure, some methods were more effective than others, and some methods, in John's opinion, weren't that effective at all, but he can hardly blame them for that.

As he mentioned to his friends earlier, one of their favourite methods was locking him in the closet. Initially, it was just to teach him a lesson, but over time it proved to be effective for other things.

His earliest memory, John now realized, was actually the first time he was locked in the closet. He was about two or so years old, and he had been colouring in this colouring book - something about farms and animals, maybe? - and he'd accidentally run the marker off the page and onto the table.

John had continued to colour, not yet old enough to know he was doing anything wrong. But then, when his mother came into the room, even his young mind could tell something was wrong when she screeched.

She immediately darted out of the room and returned with a wet paper towel and thrusted it at him. John, not understanding what she wanted, took the paper towel and began to play with it, squeezing out the water, twisting and whipping it around. Letting out a very frustrated noise, his mother then grabbed his small wrist and yanked it to the table, moving his hand back and forth to demonstrate cleaning.

"Eleanor? What's going on?" Henry had now entered, having overheard his wife's sounds from down the hall.

"What's wrong? Look!" She gestured violently at the table, "He's drawn all over the table!"

"Damnit, wasn't this one a gift from ... " John tuned out the rest of the conversation, much more focused on the table, his tears and his own thoughts.

Eventually, though, he felt his father's strong hand on his arm leading him away from the table and out of the room. Never really having had been in trouble before, John was scared and confused, but nevertheless he trusted his father, as always.

It was only maybe five or so seconds until they arrived at the closet door, his mother opening it while his father pushed him in. Before John could react or try to make his way out, the light emitted from the door quickly became nothing but a small sliver and was quickly followed by the sound of the lock clicking.

John rushed to the door and immediately began fiddling with the handle and banging on the door, crying out loudly to his parents to let him out. All of this stopped, however, as soon as a much louder bang came from the other side of the door, signalling him to shut up.

"John," his father's voice boomed, loud, harsh and angry, "do you know why you are in the closet?"

"No!"

"It is because you have done something very bad. Do you understand what happens when you do something bad?" His mother's voice wasn't as loud, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't just as freaked out by how clear and calm it was.

"Yes! Lemme out!"

"' _Let me out_ ', you mean, first of all. You are not poor, and we certainly cannot have you be stupid, so do not act as such. Secondly, when you do a bad thing, bad things happen to you? Is _that_ understood?"

"Yes!"

"Good. Now, Eleanor, do you know where the ... "

Their voices soon drifted farther and farther away, quickly overpowered by the sounds of his mother's heels clicking against the floor, but eventually, even that couldn't be heard. John continued to pound and scream against the door for what only could've been a minute before he gave up and slumped to the floor.

It was only an hour before he could hear the clicking coming down the hall again, but to John, it felt like forever. There wasn't much else with him in the closet, but in the dark, those few objects constantly swirled and shifted into so many horrifying creatures that the next time he was placed in the closet as a punishment, it was because he kept trying to sleep with the lights on, despite the fact that his silly, little fear wasn't worth racking up the electricity bill.

Despite his best efforts, John never outgrew this childish fear, causing him many restless nights.

But, in a way, he sort of grew to love being in the closet. The feelings of hunger, thirst and fear never went away, but over time they didn't matter as much to John when he suddenly began to feel safe in small space, the knowledge that no one could hurt him serving as small comfort, like a thin blanket or a lukewarm soup.

His parents never attacked him in a place that someone could see, and only did so when it was absolutely necessary. They never hurt him just because they wanted to - that's what John always reminded himself during the punishments; they didn't want to, they had to.

His father didn't want to whip him with his belt, but he had to, or how else would John learn not to be disrespectful?

His mother didn't want to burn him with the butt of her cigarettes, but she had to, or how else would John learn to watch what he says around reporters?

They didn't want to make John clean, stitch and care for the wounds by himself, but they had to, or how else would John learn to take responsibility for his actions?

John didn't even want to get punished in the first place, but he had to, or how else would he learn anything?

And sometimes, John doesn't want to love his parents. 

But he does.

Because he has to.

Or who else would ever love him in return?

John blinked harshly and repeatedly. What the fuck was that succession of thoughts? More importantly, where the fuck was he?

Once he had become lost in his thoughts, John had started to wander quickly and aimlessly around New York, unbeknownst to himself. John whipped his head around, dark curls flying everywhere as he surveyed the area for any sign of familiarity, with little to no luck other than recognizing the names of a few companies.

Forcing himself not to panic, John took a deep breath, closed his eyes and cleared his mind, slightly excited to have something else to think about. Opening his eyes, the solution was, unfortunately, a quick one: catch a cab.

For once, even that didn't take long (much to his disappointment) and soon John was slipping off his backpack and climbing into the bright yellow car.

"Where to?"

Oh shit, he didn't think of that one, did he? John could always go back to the dorms, but he could risk seeing his friends again. On the other hand, that's the only place John could go to. Other than -

"Home."

"And _where_ is that?" 

"Oh, uh, right. Sorry. Take me to JFK, please." 

"Okay."

John slumped back in his seat, pleased with his newfound plan. He made a mess, and who better to help him fix it than his parents? 

The city blurred past him, as thoughts of his family lingered into his mind once more, this time much more prominent than before.

It had only been a few months since he'd last seen them all at Christmas, but it'd felt like forever. John had never really been close with his siblings, contact limited to family meals, holidays and the occasional text, but the prospect of getting to get to see them again still excited him.

During his younger years, John had always felt jealous of his siblings because, unlike John, they weren't disappointments. But for the most part, he's over it.

The jealousy initially started through a lack of solidarity. Although he understands and accepts why his parents treat him as they do, when they announced that his mother was pregnant with his sister Martha, John was excited because he thought he'd finally have someone to sympathize with. Someone who got what he was going through. But as time went on and more Laurens children were born, it became clear that'd never be the case.

John did try to repress the jealousy and get along with his siblings, but due to his frequent punishments and the age difference between him and his siblings, he got to spend limited time with them, and therefore only knew the annoyingly angelic versions of them in his mind crafted by his parents.

John began to fish his wallet out of his pocket when the taxi came to the gates of the airport. The driver pulled up to the sidewalk before turning to face John.

"That'll be $4.50, please, sir." 

"Here," John handed over a five, not feeling like sorting through his coins, and since he will forever be a polite southern boy (and because he's a decent person), he added a "thanks."

"No problem, have a good trip."

John climbed out, bag in hand, and walked as calmly as he could into the airport. People rushed in and around him as he tried to reach the lady selling tickets for Southwest Airlines.

She was several inches taller than John with dark curls pulled up into a high ponytail, a few falling out to frame her face and the thickly applied makeup upon it, and for the life of him, John couldn't figure out why he felt like he knew her.

"Hello, my name is Gilberta, how may I help you today?" Is that a fucking French accent?

"Gil... uh, I'd like a ticket to Charleston, South Carolina, please."

"Okay," Gilberta quickly turned toward the computer and began typing away before looking back at John, "ah, congratulations, _monsieur_!"

"For what?"

"You won - win? - or ... uh, you are the special person to buy a ticket today, therefore it's free!"

"Free?" John echoed, confused, trying to figure out if this was some sort of trick on him.

"Yes, free! Here, goodbye now!" She shoved a ticket toward him before leaning over the counter to push him away and out of the line. Choosing to accept that at least one thing could go right today, John decided to just go with it and headed towards security.

Security was boring and uneventful (other than when John had to shove twenty gummy-worms in his mouth to use the empty bag to keep his bubbles from getting confiscated) but left him with a good fifteen minutes to spare until his flight boarded.

John spent his time wandering aimlessly in the general vicinity of his gate, ducking in and out of various stores, stopping once to buy a bottle of ginger ale and an Archie comic book for the flight, having had realized that he was wondrously unprepared for this trip.

His boarding group was called and for a moment, John considered leaving. He didn't need to do this, he had nothing to prove or figure out. John knows that there's nothing wrong with his relationship with his parents, so what's the point? He could just as easily get their advice over the phone.

Gilberta, apparently, somehow disagreed. Or at least, it seemed that way to John when he tried to step out of line and she grabbed his arm and yanked him back in.

"Hello again!"

"Hey? Actually I think I'm going to - "

"Get on the plane now?"

"No, this was a mistake I should really - "

"Wait, _non_ , it is impossible for me to know what is going on with you, so do not think of ways that I possibly could, but do know that if it was important enough for you to get this far, you should go!"

Fuck, that made sense (other than that one part, which really makes John think he knows her, but _how_?). Mulling it over for a second longer in his head, he handed her his ticket.

" _Merci!_ _Bon voyage!_ " 

Moving over to push him forward one last time, Gilberta turned her attention away from John as he made his way towards the plane, oblivious to the eight sets of eyes that watched the entire scene with bated breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, John had to put the bubbles in the empty candy bag because the TSA rules state that, "you are allowed to bring a quart-sized bag of liquids [...] in your carry-on bag and through the checkpoint." Assuming that John only had about 100 ml (3.4 oz) left of bubbles, a candy bag that could be done up at the top and a relatively cool TSA agent, this should be okay.
> 
>  **French**  
>  Monsieur - Sir  
> Non - No  
> Merci! Bon Voyage - Thank you! Have a good trip!


	3. Chapter 3

(About thirty or so seconds after John left)

No words were communicated as the remainders of the group quickly packed (shoved) things back into their containers or when they subsequently aggressively-placed (threw) them into the car.

In the group's anger and haste to get their presently non-existent plan into motion, little care was remembered for the law, causing them to do a few things that were a tad bit illegal.

**Crime Number One: Please Keep Your Seatbelt On**

The first crime was, for the most part, victimless, as long as no sudden brakes ensued. Getting into the car, they realized that this was the first time this many people chose to get in and were short one seat. Seeing as Alexander was the smallest (and the last to get in), they elected that he should be the one to lay down across the laps of the people in the back seat (Eliza, Lafayette, Burr).

**Crime(s) Number Two - Nine: Put Up Your Dukes, and Let's Get Down to It**

Now, technically, threatening a senator and his wife is only a felony when said threats are directly made towards them, and not in private. However, seeing as they're all dead serious and don't seem the type to hold back on their opinions (except for Burr), they should probably be taken seriously.

"One clear punch in the face for both of them; that's all I need."

"Just one? Jesus Christ, how do you have this much restraint, Burr?"

"The second I see them, I swear, I'm just going to start throwing shit."

"Are duels still legal?"

"I've seen pictures of those fuckers - I could take them both down, ten seconds flat."

"They just need is one gentle nudge down the stairs. Accidents happen all the time, you know."

" _Oui_ , _ç'est très terrible_ how many things could just _happen_."

"One day, everything's all good and dandy and the next, your house is just burning to the ground."

"So sad."

There was a beat of silence, not-so-gleefully broken by Alexander.

"How could they do this to John?"

That was the main question swimming around his head. How could they not love John? How could anyone not love John? How could _John_ not love John?

Alexander had become enthralled with the freckle-faced southerner the first time they ever met and he couldn't fathom anyone not feeling the same way.

"I don't know."

Peggy had known John ever since the beginning of their freshman year when he accidentally walked in on her having a panic attack before deciding to stay and help her through it. Now she just desperately wanted to help him.

"In my psychology class, they mentioned that often abusive parents were also abused as children."

Every too-much-crush, every joy, every heartache, every tear, John had always made it clear that he'd be there for them. There were not enough grocery stores in the world for Eliza to raid to make the amount of cookies he genuinely deserves for that.

" _Oui_ , but that does not really excuse it."

Lafayette had always thought that if he had a time machine, he'd immediately go and fight in the American and French revolutions. Now, he'd willingly give all of his childhood dreams up to go and save John.

"Nothing excuses it."

Angelica had always hated John's parents, despising just about every single opinion that they had ever made public. But, she had always reasoned that they were at least just a little bit okay, seeing as they had managed to raise someone as sweet and caring as their eldest son. Turns out she was dead wrong.

"If only we could get that through to John."

Burr was never big on expressing opinions, always worrying that no matter what he chose it would always come back to bite him in the ass. However, if someone were to randomly walk up to him and ask him about his opinion on the Laurens', let's just say that not much of he'd say would be suitable for young ears.

"If only we could get _anything_ through to John."

Hercules, after quickly going through the five stages of grief, was now looking up how he could officially adopt John because he would sooner chop off his own hands before he consented to his future-son having any more contact with _them_.

"Or at least get it through to the police."

Thomas and James were nearly as disgusted with themselves as they were with John's parents. How many times had they visited the Laurens' estate to attend a party where only a few feet away from them was John, locked up in a closet. They'd always assumed that John hadn't wanted to go, and was presumably just up in his room, so they never asked. They really should've asked.

"Yeah, but with what evidence?"

"What evidence? You heard John, right?"

"And you know that his dad is a senator, right? It'd take a lot more than his word - and that's assuming that John would willingly go along with this."

"So, what are we supposed to do, Jefferson? Just pretend like nothing happened?" Alexander fumed, deciding to redirect his anger.

"I never said we should do nothing, Hamilton! I was just pointing out that we can't half-ass this like you usually do!"

" _I half-ass shit?_ I'm sorry, do you not remember when - " Despite fully intending to finish that sentence, Alexander stopped after a particularly sharp turn slammed him quite violently against the row of seats in front of him before Lafayette, Burr and Eliza managed to yank him back onto their laps.

"Hercules! What the hell was that for!?"

"Firstly, shut the fuck up. Secondly, Thomas has a point. We need an actual plan - and no, just kicking their asses is not a valid option."

"What if we - "

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"But I know that tone."

Eliza, sensing that Alexander was about to escalate things even further in the wrong direction of what they need, quickly jumped in.

"Okay! Does anyone have any ideas?"

Silence.

A bit more silence.

Alexander.

"We could catch that flight to Charleston."

"That's a start," Angelica conceded. "But what about after that?"

"We can figure that out on the plane - and before you say no, remember, there is a very limited window of time for us to do this."

Before she could reply, Peggy spoke up, "Let's do it."

"There must be a more practical - "

"If this was happening to one of us, would John hesitate?"

 _No, he wouldn't_ , were the loud, unsaid words ringing in everyone's ears as Hercules pulled up to the Schuyler sisters' place. So, when they got back into the car after dropping off the food, no one needed to ask where Hercules was taking them, they all knew that they'd be shortly arriving at JFK.

Parking, as always, was a bitch. They all had to lean out the windows and crane their necks around for an uncomfortable amount of time before they finally found a spot that wasn't immediately taken by somebody else.

Inside the airport was only slightly less hectic, although they did almost manage to lose each other a handful of times. Eventually, though, they did successfully find and send Laf and Alexander towards the large blue wall dedicated to flying Southwest.

"Hello, my name is Maria, how may I help you today?"

" _Bonjour_ , we would like nine tickets for the plane to Charleston, _s'il vous plait_."

"Ten. We need ten, actually," Alexander corrected.

"Ten?" Lafayette made a confused face. "Wait, _un, deux ... cinq ... huit, neuf_. No, we need nine."

"We need a ticket for John too."

"John?"

Alexander prides himself on being knowledgable in many, many, _many_ things (which he'll proudly tell anyone who'll listen, even if he'd already previously claimed to be quite humble), but if there is one thing he genuinely knows better than anyone else, it's how John's mind works.

"I know John, Laf. Right now, he's probably already wandered somewhere accidentally while deep in his own thoughts in memories. Once he snaps out of it, he won't know where he is and will most likely get in a taxi. And in that taxi, he'll decide to come here."

" _D'accord_ , but if so, would he not just get his own ticket?"

"What if they're all out of seats by then?"

"Ten tickets it is then, _Mademoiselle_."

"Okay, one second," the woman - Maria - turned from them and began to type on the computer next to her. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"We only have nine seats left. Would you like to book for a later flight?"

Slightly defeated, Lafayette shook his head, "No, no, we will take the seats available, _merci._ "

The pair paid and made their way towards the others before explaining the newly developed situation which involved one of them staying - a person of which no one wanted to be.

"This is the first time I've been able to quickly make a decision about something! Do we really want to ruin that?"

"When all is said and done, someone is going to need to be there to cuddle with him. And I think we all know who he's going to want to do that!"

"Yeah, me! Look at these arms! There is nothing else on this planet that could make you feel more safe and secure - Jemmy knows what I'm talking about."

"Okay, more on _that_ later, but I think we're forgetting the main thing we'll need to take down his parents; the ability to kick ass."

"Or _maybe_ we need someone who can keep a level-head during a conversation with them?"

"Or, if all else fails, leave me outside without a jacket for twenty minutes and I can give them a hell of a cold."

"Let's circle back to the ass-kicking and bring up the fact that I have a _purple belt_ in karate."

"Dunking your orange belt in purple paint doesn't count, Pegs."

"Fooled mom and dad well enough, didn't it?"

The conversation continued as such, everyone going back and forth, without anything productive happening. But then, just as things had a momentary lull, they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

"Uh, I'm sorry to bother you but - "

"Oh god, were we being too loud? I'm - _we're_ \- so sorry, we're just trying to help our friend out of a bad situation and we just got a little worked up over it. Once again, very sorry, and we will gladly quiet down," Eliza rambled out, blushing partially from embarrassment from the situation and partially from the beauty of the flight attendant.

"No, - well, yeah, actually, kind of - but I came over to ... how do I put this? Can I ... help?"

"Help?" Angelica echoed.

"As you said, you guys were being kind of loud, so I could hear some of what you were saying and although I don't know the full extent of what's going on, it kind of reminds me of my relationship with my ex, so I know how shitty it is, and I just ... " Maria trailed off for a moment in which Jefferson took the opportunity to talk.

"Thank you, but unless you have the power to kick someone else off the plane, I don't think there's much you can do."

"Actually, there is one thing, but it's kind of illegal."

**Crime Number Ten: Come Fly With Me**

"How illegal is kind of?" James questioned.

"The area behind the gates is controlled by TSA, which means that it's under federal Jurisdiction, and if you got caught it would kinda, sorta be a federal offence."

"How is a _f_ _ederal offence_ only _kind of_ illegal!?" Hercules whisper-yelled, visibly scandalized.

"It's just because you'd technically be breaching a federally secured area without proper clearance. And if you don't get caught, you're totally in the clear! Unless the plane got into some sort of emergency, then you could be responsible for endangering the other passengers due to a lack of training. But there isn't that high of a chance of that happening."

"What the hell would we be doing?"

"Well, for the most part, it's just one of you who'll need to dress up as a flight attendant."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. We should have some spare uniforms around and one of the other girls who were supposed to be on the flight to Charleston just called in sick."

"Okay," Peggy turned to her friends, "Rock, paper, scissors, Wild, Wild, West or Black Shoe?"

"What?"

"To decide which of us does it."

"You're actually considering this?"

"I'll take it as I'm the one that's doing it then," she turned to Maria, "Where are the uniforms?"

"Just over - "

"Peggy, this is a _federal offence_."

"Angelica, _he would do it for me._ "

At that, Peggy grabbed Maria's arm and walked with her to where the uniforms are kept, which the others took as an incentive to follow because heaven forbid she end up alone in federal prison.

After ducking her head in to make sure no one else was there, Maria lead them all in and locked the door. Moving to the large metal closet in the back, she pulled a face.

"What is it?"

"We only have one dress left."

"Perfect!"

"It's an XL."

"Not as perfect."

That definitely put a damper on their plans.

"I bet Laf could fit in an XL dress," Hercules speculated, sizing his friend up and down, gesturing for Maria to bring the dress over to him

Finally, a plan! A somewhat complicated and possibly illegal plan, that doesn't help in any way determine their currently unknown ultimate goal, but it's still a plan!

Immediately after deciding what to do, Eliza, Lafayette and Hercules left the others and made their way out to the car. Then, after Hercules finished mourning the loss of a good spot, he drove them to the nearest Walmart to gather supplies.

While the others awaited their return and kept a lookout for John, Maria miraculously managed to butter up security enough to get the needed credentials (which, if it weren't exactly what she needed, would've deeply concerned her).

When the trio finally did burst back in, newly purchased items in tow, Maria ushered them (and Alexander, who decided he had to be there) back into the locker room before anyone else could see them.

All either slumped against various poles or slouched on immensely uncomfortable benches, the remainders of the group watched the crowd, attempting to stay focused despite being utterly bored.

"You know," Angelica said, looking over at Jefferson, "you're about the same size as Laf, you probably could've worn the dress."

"Yeah, but I couldn't have pretended to be a girl."

"And why not?"

"There isn't a feminine form of Thomas."

"Thomasina."

"That's not a real name."

"What do you think Tammi Terrell's name is short for?"

"I don't know, Tamara?"

"What? No? We were talking abo - "

Angelica's confusion was quickly cut off as Alexander and Hercules came out of the locker room and took turns giving quite an eager announcement.

"Now presenting ... "

"For the first time ever ... "

"And also presumably the last time ... "

"Although no guarantees can currently be made,"

"Ladies, gentlemen and Jefferson, may we introduce you to, Marie-Josephine Paulette Yvonne Rochelle Gilberta du Motier, Marquise de La Fayette!"

Suddenly, a large figure bursted out the door, treating the group's eyes to quite a sight.

"Laf or Lafayette to her friends,"

"and Gilberta to all those with the pleasure of flying with Southwest this afternoon!"

Hercules and Alexander began to initiate the claps that the others soon followed as they took in the sight before them.

Clad proudly in a knee-length black dress with a blue and red stripe running up the side and a blue neckerchief, Laf demonstrated several faces that he presumably believed to be attractive to show off his newly-applied makeup upon his newly-beardless face.

"Holy shit."

"Am I magnificent or am I breathtaking? Perhaps sensational?"

"Sure. Yes. Oh my god."

Eliza quietly came out from the door behind him and disposed of the rest of the things they bought in the trash, before going to talk to Maria and having a quiet conversation with her.

While Maria was distracted, Lafayette took the opportunity to go behind the desk and do some more random poses since no one was in line at the desk. Although there was a certain curly-haired southerner making his way there.

"Shit, shit, shit." Madison whispered, "Laf!"

"Hmm?"

"Look!" Gesturing violently with his head, James alerted his friends of John's arrival, albeit a little too late for Maria to take Lafayette's place.

" _Que fais-je?!_ "

"Oh god, uh, just go with it!"

"Where's the ticket!"

Five feet away. Four feet away. Three feet away. Two feet away. One foot away and ...

"Hello, my name is Gilberta, how may I help you today?"

"Gil... uh, I'd like a ticket to Charleston, South Carolina, please."

"Okay," Lafayette began to randomly type on the keyboard, "ah, congratulations, _monsieur_!"

"For what?"

"You won - win? - or ... uh, you are the special person to buy a ticket today, therefore it's free!"

Hercules, having had found the ticket but no other way to get to Laf, began to army crawl across the floor to get to him without being seen.

"Free?" John echoed.

"Yes, free! Here, goodbye now!" Lafayette yanked the ticket out of Herc's hand and moved it towards John. When he didn't immediately leave, Laf leaned over the counter to push him out of line.

By this point, a few other people had joined the line, but the man who had the next shift had thankfully arrived and took over. 

After recovering from that near discovery, Maria took Lafayette to get his credentials and to the special security section just for flight attendants while others headed to regular security.

There was a near fuck-up later on when John almost left, but Laf had managed to handle that quite well and quite quickly, which helped with some of their anxiety, but seeing as Laf was in the middle of committing a possible federal offence while their other friend was heading towards his truly awful parents, not all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> In Case You Were Wondering  
> **  
>  These are their ages/year at school:  
> Sophmore - Peggy, John  
> Junior - Alexander, Eliza, Burr  
> Senior - Angelica, Madison, Jefferson, Lafayette, Hercules
> 
> [This is the layout of the car](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.motormum.com%2Fimages%2FHyundai-i800-Seating-Layout.jpg&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.motormum.com%2FHyundai-i800.php&tbnid=lwQGN9DmvnH-pM&vet=12ahUKEwi9p_jZ3u7qAhVEPqwKHQU7BEsQMygFegUIARCvAQ..i&docid=r5OKodDRiGV8hM&w=610&h=300&q=car%20with%20eight%20seats%20layout&ved=2ahUKEwi9p_jZ3u7qAhVEPqwKHQU7BEsQMygFegUIARCvAQ)
> 
> I couldn't find anything about the genuine legalities of impersonating a flight attendant, [but I did find this Quora thread](https://www.quora.com/Is-it-legal-to-board-a-plane-dressed-like-a-flight-crew-member-if-you-are-not-a-crew-member) that's hopefully accurate  
>  **French**
> 
> Oui - Yes
> 
> ç'est très terrible - it's very terrible
> 
> Mademoiselle - Miss
> 
> S'il vous plait - Please (Fun French Fact: Vous is a more formal you, used typically for talking to either someone you don't know very well or is in a position of power over you, like a boss or a teacher. If Lafayette knew Maria, he would've said s'il _te_ plait instead)
> 
> Un, deux ... cinq ... huit, neuf - One, two ... five ... eight, nine
> 
> D'accord - Okay
> 
> Merci - Thank you
> 
> Que fais-je - What do I do


	4. Chapter Four: Rough/Unedited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!NOTICE!!!  
> I started writing up this chapter back in early August, but unfortunately, I haven't been able to find the motivation to continue working on it.
> 
> So, in other words, this is the half-finished, rough draft of the fourth chapter.
> 
> Sorry.

(Please scroll up to read the chapter summary before continuing!)

The plane ride, for John, was surprisingly nice. He managed not only to get a window seat at the front, but the guy who was supposed to sit next to him never even showed up (which for some reason unknown to John, greatly bothered Gilberta). With his headphones plugged in and his eyes focused on the antics of the Archie gang, he never once had to think about the upcoming destination.

His friends, on the other hand, were not having as fun of a flight. While John sat comfortably and secludedly on his own, they garnered seats near the back of the plane a.k.a. front row seats to the world's most disgusting concert.

"It's a _two-hour_ flight, can't they just hold it?" Jefferson seethed, not used to being treated to the lesser-side of things.

"It's a _two-hour_ flight, can't you just shut up and deal with it?" Alexander shot-back from in front of him, already way too tired to deal with his shit.

*thump* *thump* *thump*

"Would you stop kicking my seat!?"

"It's a _two-hour_ flight, can't _you_ just shut up and deal with it?"

"You know what? Okay, Jefferson, let's see where _I_ can kick _my_ foot into!"

As Alexander began to lunge over the seat, Angelica yanked him by his hair back down, to which he let out a high-pitch squeal that she quickly shut him up for.

"Would you two be quiet? If we draw too much attention to ourselves, John might see us!" 

"It's not my fault he's such a goddamn child!"

"How am I the child in this situation?"

"You kicked my seat!"

"You mocked me!"

"I swear to god, if you two get us caught, the second we land I'm going to shave both of your heads."

" _Quelle surprise_ that's what shut them up," Laf said, having had started to make his way to the back the second he heard Alexander respond to Jefferson.

"The same threat extends to you, you know."

"I am pretty sure that if I get caught, _les fédéraux_ will get to me long before you can get your hands on a razor!"

Hercules, who sat on the other side of the aisle, moved his foot out to kick his friend in the shin before speaking in an angry whisper, "Shh! You do know that we are in _public_ and that other people can _hear_ you!"

" _Oui!_ That is why I said it _en français!_ " Lafayette whined, rubbing his leg. Letting out a gasp, he spoke again, "Look! You made a run in my stocking!"

Before anyone could point out that _'les fédéraux'_ doesn't exactly leave much to the imagination, an older lady a few rows ahead (thankfully!) required assistance.

As the remaining hour passed, the group broke off into their own peaceful sections, attracting little attention save for when someone noticed how one of the flight attendants rarely left the back of the plane.

Eventually, though, it came time for everyone to prepare to land.

"There's about five minutes until we get there. You should probably wake up James."

"Okay, I just have to do one thing first, though." Pulling out his phone, Thomas smiled and took a picture of himself and James as he slept on his shoulder.

"What're you doing?"

"Just collecting evidence to prove to John who's the best cuddler. Hint: it isn't the guy who's you," He said with a proud smirk as Alexander tried to snatch the phone out of his hands.

"Hint: It's me!" Peggy piped up from beside Hercules, tearing her eyes away from the ending of Wreck-it Ralph as it played out on her phone.

"Please don't tell me that the only thing we have planned out for after this is maybe, possibly one of us cuddling with him." 

"Shut up, Burr. I don't see you putting any ideas forward."

"Like any of you would be able to hear me."

Although Alexander did open his mouth to retort, Eliza beat him to it, "Have you thought of anything, Aaron?"

"Well, ah, no."

"Ha!"

"But," he continued with a touch of aggression, "I did find out their address, and prior to leaving I set for two cars to come and pick us up from the airport."

Slumping slightly in his seat, Alexander made some small, unintelligible sounds that everyone took as a response and an incentive to continue their conversation.

He didn't mean to go off on everybody, but he was upset. They all were, but Alexander had quickly deduced that he was more so, due to him having another reason that he believed to be secret.

It wasn't of course, at least not to anybody that wasn't him or John. With all the late-night talks, unnecessary but well-received touches, breaking off from the rest of the group to have their own private thing and the eye-fucks that'd give Merlin and Arthur Pendragon a run for their money, a sociology degree wasn't exactly needed to figure it out.

But now, all of those moments feel bittersweet. Like a warm and fuzzy blanket with a random wet spot, the details of John's perception of himself tainting the once dream-like set of memories. He didn't want to make this about himself, and he felt like shit whenever he caught himself coming back to the thought, but he couldn't help but think he was somehow at fault. 

He had been enthralled with the man ever since they'd met one night in the library, a million words practically bouncing off his tongue but still somehow managing to get caught in his throat as they took turns glancing at each other from across the dim room.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't manage to verbally express a single one of his thoughts, each one turning to dust in his throat whenever he believed he'd thought of something good to say. Even when he tried to type them out on his computer, it still came out as useless, non-sensical babble that'd easily ruin everything.

So, seeing as this was back when John, for some reason, decided to try out facial hair, Alexander stumbled into meekly saying, "I, uh, like your goatee?"

"Thanks, but it's really just glued on pubes."

A beat of silence elapsed. 

"Oh, why the _fuck_ did I say that?"

A sharp bark of laughter shot out of Alexander, earning a half-hearted shushing from the librarian at the front.

"I'm sorry, man, I'm running on like, two hours of sleep and the last closest thing I've had to human interaction recently is a handful of episodes of Community." John stumbled out, clearly needlessly embarrassed.

"Well, I'm going on one hour, twelve cups of coffee and various, confusingly bilingual drunk dials, so there's little need for embarrassment right now."

The red slowly started to creep off of John's face and was replaced with a faint smile before they tentatively began a conversation about school, although little time was needed until a comfortable atmosphere enveloped them.

When Alexander finally went back to his dorm room, he sat on his bed for ten full minutes just staring at his contacts where John had added his number. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French:**
> 
> Quelle surprise: What a surprise  
> Les fédéraux: The Feds  
> Oui: Yes  
> En français: in French


End file.
